


Reaching Out (hp style)

by tryintobepunny



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Depression, Happy Ending, Hospital, Implied abuse, Mental Abuse, Muggle AU, Suicide Attempt, at all, not very happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 02:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14684694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryintobepunny/pseuds/tryintobepunny
Summary: Harry’s tired of being abused, though he knows he’s not at fault, right?





	Reaching Out (hp style)

**Harry**

 

 

——————————-

 

Failed another test today. I’ll never get out of this place with my grades. Hermione is going to go to some amazing college because of how smart she is, but not me. I’m going to end up working as a barista for the rest of my life. I never really think about that though. I have never really thought about my future, like at all. Everyone around me has plans for themselves, like being a big shot business man or being a doctor, but not me. I have never thought past the end of the year. I just hope I have the strength to get there.

 

 

Other than failing the test, it was a normal day. Well actually, failing is pretty normal. But I wrote some poetry today. Scratch that, I read some poetry today. It was actually Hermione’s poem, one that she wrote for me. She really has a way with words, one I will never understand. I look at it when I’m down, or really when I’m away from her. I’m reading it right now actually.

 

  
“say good bye to the day before this

  
say hello to a new way

  
watch your troubles fall behind you

  
and your worries washed away

  
know your life will change for the better

  
and today will be a great day

  
and as long as you know i'll be next to you

  
nothing bad will get in your way

  
so say good bye to the days before this

  
say hello to the new day

  
know it's better then before, it's over, yeah the war,

  
and life will start to go your way”

 

  
This poem has been able to pull me out of all of my troubles, and help me look forward. But today, today I can’t seem to snap out of it. It’s like I’m in a state. I’ve never experienced this despair, not at this level. The voice hasn’t been drowned out. The one telling me I won’t make it. That I won’t get out of here. That I deserve to be here. That I’m worthless like this town. It’s hypnotizing, but I can’t believe that it’s true or else I’m done for.  
The poems, they usually drown out the voice, at least for a moment, giving me the opportunity to regain my strength. But not today. No, today the voice remains, draining my strength and will. I need another poem. My favorite one.

 

  
I rummage through my backpack, because I refuse to leave the house without it. While the poem I just read was one of the best to get me out of a slump, this one has some magical powers, at least that’s what I like to believe. It’s neatly folded at the very bottom of my folder.

  
The voice grows louder, as I pull out the paper, and I notice that it sounds distinctly like a combination of me and my uncle. I understand why he is saying it, but why am I? I mean, the voice is in my head right? Does that mean I believe that it’s true? Have I been living off false positivity? I have actually lied to myself, haven’t I? I somehow tricked myself into believing it’s not true, but deep in my mind, I have known. Why couldn’t I have seen it before? I am worthless. I fail tests for no reason other than that I am not smart. I use my best friend as an outlet for my pain, and to help me through my troubles. I used her. The only person I would do anything for. And I didn’t even realize. This is my fault. I’ve hidden away the truth for too long. I’ve projected it onto others, like Petunia and Vernon, and even though they have put me through hell, I deserved it. I have always shown them as the animals, but I’m just as bad, or even worse.

 

  
Suddenly, the poem is forgotten. The voice has become my own, and I know its just telling the truth now. I am worthless. I deserve the pain, and anything that comes with it. I don’t deserve this life, or life at all. I’ve caused so many people so much trouble. I have put Hermione through hell, using her as a crutch. She didn’t deserve bear my pain or my troubles. I can’t do it anymore.

 

  
I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I don’t want to feel as though everything I do is wrong, because I know it’s true. I don’t want to blame myself. They say you have to stay strong against others, but what do you do when it’s your fault? When you’re tearing yourself down? I don’t want to continue with this pain. It needs to stop. The voice needs to stop. I can’t continue with this. Not today, not ever. I would do anything to stop it. Anything at all. I know I’m worthless, but I don’t need the voice screaming it throughout my head.

 

  
That’s when it occurred to me, the solution to my pain and suffering. A permanent solution. One I couldn’t regret and which would free myself and those around me. Not enough time to regret, not enough time for pain.

  
With my head spinning, I made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a knife, then up the stairs and into the bath tub. I didn’t want to cause any more trouble after this and this is the easiest to clean up after.

  
Lying down, I look at the knife in my hands. This can be it. The object that untethers me from the voice screaming at me. It will cause me pain, but only for a bit, because then I’ll be free.

  
“DO IT!” the voice, my voice, screams in my head. “PROVE WHAT YOU ALREADY KNOW IS TRUE!”  
I closed my eyes and pushed the knife down, into my skin. I could feel the pain in my arms, but only a bit, because the voices were going away. The bliss of the voices leaving were enough to continue. Again, and again.  
The lights grew dimmer as I watched the blood pour from my arms. The blood started spinning, or I started spinning. I felt really light headed, and then I didn’t feel at all.

——————————

 

  
**Hermione**

 

 

  
——————————

 

Something’s not right. I had to stay after school for a test that I wanted to get over with. I told Harry and texted him just so he knew that our normal meeting was moved to 4:30, giving me about 2 hours for the test and to arrive. I left the school at about 4:00, and made sure to text him, alerting him I was done. I decided to stop by the local coffee shop on the way because I was in need of a pick-me up after that test.  
I arrived at the meeting spot, just around 4:15, and started mindlessly playing around on my phone, waiting for Harry. The next time I checked the time, it said 4:52.

  
He didn’t show. Harry didn’t show up to one of our meetings. Neither of us has missed a meeting since we met, no matter how sick, injured, or unhealthy we were. Something had to be wrong. I started on my way to his house, forgetting the coffees, spamming his phone as I walked down the road.

 

  
Harry ‘Ry<3  
4:54

  
\- ‘Ry  
\- Where are you  
\- Please im worried now  
\- Im coming to your house  
\- If they touched you I will kill them  
\- Almost there  
\- Please be okay  
\- ‘Ry  
\- Please

 

 

As I arrived at the house, I noticed there were no cars in the driveway. Good, that means I don’t have to deal with Petunia or Vernon, but where is ‘Ry? I snuck through the back, and started searching the house. After a quick sweep of the downstairs, I ran upstairs, to his room. He wasn’t there, but there was a light on in the bathroom, so I dropped my bags and ran in.

 

  
I found him in the bathtub. His clothes were soaked with blood, which poured from his arms. The cuts, from which the blood poured, look fresh. In his hand, there was a sharp knife, most likely from the kitchen, which was covered with blood as well. Harry's blood. My best friend's blood. He was pale and his eyes were closed. Blinking through tears, I checked his pulse on his neck. It was there, but it was weak. I need to do something. Anything. He can't die.

 

  
"Come on, ‘Mione! Think for god's sake!" I screamed as the tears continued to stream down my face.

  
I can't do this on my own. If I try to, he’s gone. I have to call 911. My hands were shaking as I hastily typed in the numbers.

  
"911. What's your emergency?"

  
"I need an ambulance now. 15 Fortunate Ave. It's urgent."

  
"We'll send someone over right now."

  
"I'm in the upstairs bathroom. Please hurry!"

  
"They're on their way"

  
"Thank you"

  
I hung up the phone and started pacing. I need to help him in the meantime. But I don’t know what to do. How do I stop the bleeding? I started thinking back to my first-aid class from freshmen year. I don’t need to preform CPR, and I already called 911. I had to have learned more in that class.

  
“When there is blood involved call 911, blah blah and. OH! Apply pressure to the wound!” I recalled as I jumped to get towels. I took about 5 towels and laid them across his arms. I started to apply pressure, the blood starting to stain the towels. I hovered there, applying pressure while wishing he would be okay, for what seemed like hours. Suddenly, I heard footsteps running up the stairs.

  
“IN HERE,” I screamed.

  
The next few minutes passed in a blur. Harry was rushed into the ambulance on a stretcher, while I fought my way through paramedics to get in. Harry has a fear of hospitals so I refused to leave his side. Once they started driving, I was questioned.

  
“Where did you find him?” the (a) paramedic with the notepad asked.

  
“I found him in the upstairs bathroom, his clothes already soaked with blood. He was unconscious when I found him.”

  
“We didn’t see any parents, so how did you know to come over?”

  
“He’s my best friend. We have a daily meeting every day after school and I knew something was up when he didn’t show. His guardians are…” I had to think about my words before they came out. Usually I wouldn’t tell a soul about what Harry would tell me, but now. Now I could get him free. However, it might land him in a worse home.

  
“Well they’re abusive. He wouldn’t want me to tell you, but I think that’s why this happened. They made him feel worthless and as though everything he did was wrong. I believe they are what brought him over the edge.” I said quickly.

  
“I see. Do you think we should call them or who else do you have in mind?” the paramedic asked me while scribbling down what I had said prior to the question.

  
“I can call our friend but that’s it I think. Am I allowed to stay with him? He has a fear of hospitals, and I feel as though he would respond best to me.”

  
“I will talk to the doctor, but I think that you should be able to stay, but not when he’s getting stitches, though he won’t be conscious for that.”

  
“Okay, thank you.” I sighed with relief.

  
“I believe you answered all of my questions, and perfect timing as well.” the paramedic said as we pulled up to a stop. Harry was quickly brought out of the ambulance and rushed towards the door.

  
“By the way, my name is Minerva if you need me, okay?” the paramedic, Minerva, told me as she ran after Harry’s stretcher along with the other paramedics. Making a note in my phone as I was brought to the waiting room, I decided to text Ron

 

  
Ron!!  
\- Hey, Harry’s in the hospital right now.  
…

I sat impatiently as I waited for Ron to respond. The waiting room was fairly empty for a Friday afternoon. *BING*

 

OMG!! Is he okay? I’m on my way now.  
\- He’ll be okay, I hope anyway. I’ll tell you what happened when you get here.  
Okay. Be there in 15. Remus and Sirius are coming too.

I sat in the waiting room, impatiently, tapping my foot to whatever song was playing on my phone. Suddenly, the doors opened up and Ron flew in.

“Is he okay?” he asked as he sprinted up to me.

“Yeah, I hope. He should be fine, but you never know.” I said while wiping away the tears that refused to stop streaming.

“Oh, my gosh, Hermione are you okay?” He asked with concern.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just can’t lose him.” I said as the tears started to pour harder.

“It’s okay. He’ll be okay. Don’t worry ‘Mione,” Ron said as he pulled me into a hug. I curled up and sobbed into his shoulder for god knows how long. I couldn’t pull away from him. Then, Ron’s adopted parents ran in.

“Hermione, oh my, are you okay? Is he okay?” They said while sitting on the other side of me.

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks you. He will hopefully be fine. I owe you guys an explanation,” I said as I uncurled in order to talk to them. “I went to his house after school to check up on ‘Ry because he hadn’t been at our meeting spot. When I got to his house, I searched it until I found him. He was laying in the bathtub with a…” I let out an involuntary sob before continuing. “with a knife in his hand. He had cuts all down his arms and he was covered in blood. I called 911 and then texted y’all when I arrived. If I hadn’t found him…” I stopped to wipe away the tears but they didn’t let me continue.

“‘Mione. You saved his life. He wouldn’t be alive without you.”

“If he’s alive.”  
——————————

 

 

**Harry**

  
——————————

 

 

I opened my eyes, only to have them burned by the light overhead. I was in a different bed and in different clothes. Did I make it? Did I actually free myself?  
“Harry!” ‘Mione’s voice rang through my head.

  
Nope. I’m still here. But where am I? I tried to sit up, but was stopped by a searing pain in my arms. I looked down to see huge gashes sewn together with stitches. My arms look like they were operated on by Dr. Frankenstein. Not only were their stitches throughout my arms, but there was a needle in my right elbow.  
I knew where I was. The one place I swore I would never return. I was in a hospital.

  
Most people don’t understand my fear of hospitals. I mean they understand after I explain it, but not before. They usually just think that I’m afraid of the needles and the knifes. They’d know they were wrong if they looked at me now. No, my fear came from my past, not from a possible scenario of the future.

  
~~~~~

_Picture it, you’re 5 years old, watching TV without a care in the world. Your parents are out, so you have some teenage babysitter, which means it’s a pizza night. Suddenly, the house phone rings. The babysitter walks over to the phone in order to look at the number calling. As her gaze falls upon the number, her eyes widen and she rushes to hit answer. She nods her head along to the voice from the telephone as she frantically grabs your shoes and her coat._

  
_“We’re on our way,” she practically screams into the phone, then hangs up._

  
_“Come on, Harry! We’ve got to go on a ride because there’s been an accident.” She says as she picks you up, and brings you to the car._

  
_Now remember, you are only five years old. You stopped listening after she said that you got to go on a ride. You become excited as she drives out of your driveway and speeds through the cars on the road. The car finally comes to a stop, and you are picked up and brought into some building you don’t recognize. When you walk in, they say that your parents got hurt, but they should be able to make them all better. You stay there for hours, with different nurses taking over watching you once the sitter has left. Finally, a doctor comes out of the fancy swinging doors and heads towards you._

  
_“They didn’t make it. I’m so sorry for your loss.” He says, then turns on his heel and walks away, leaving you at a lost for words._

  
~~~~~

I’ve relived that moment so many times, and haven’t walked into a hospital since. But here I am.

  
The clock on the wall is flashing 2:43 AM. That means I was out for about 10 hours I guess?

  
I turn my head to the right, and see Hermione sitting there, her eyes fixated on mine.

 

“‘Mione?” I manage to croak out. Given the state I’m in, I give myself some credit for even getting it out.

  
“‘Ry?” She asks quietly, her voice no louder than a whisper. She sounds frightened. Why would she? Oh yeah, I just tried to kill myself.

  
“I’m here ‘Mione.” I say, my voice lowering to a whisper as well. “I’m right…”

  
——————————

 

**Hermione**

 

——————————

That’s when he blacked out. I mean I understand why. He has a ton of drugs in his system right now. But it doesn’t matter because he’s still here. Harry’s alive. And I’m tired because it’s 2 AM. I should sleep.  
___________________________________________________________________________________

I’m not going to complain, but Harry hasn’t woken up yet and I’m bored. I mean it’s only 10:30 but he almost died yesterday. By the way, I give myself a pat on the back for that. I saved someone’s life! Not only that, but I saved my best friend. Okay, now that I’m thinking about it, did he really want to be saved? He clearly put himself there for a reason. I mean what if I made it worse.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Minerva, the nurse, walked in.

“Hey! How’s he doing?” she asked.

“Well, he seems to be doing okay. He woke up around, 2:30 AM, I think? But then he blacked out again, and hasn’t woken sense.”

“Well it is normal for the fatigue, especially after this amount of blood loss. Can you press this button when he wakes up? It’s really important I get to talk to him and soon.” Minerva said while looking at Harry’s charts.

“Yeah, sure.”

Minerva left the room, and I sat back down. I decided a nap was in order because I need my strength for Harry later. I quickly wrote a note with the post-its by his bedside, telling him to press the button if he wakes up before me. Then, I closed my eyes and …

 

——————————

 

**Harry**

——————————

 

I woke up again, and my eyes were drawn immediately to the neon post-it by my bedside.

 

“PRESS BLUE BUTTON IF YOU’RE AWAKE BEFORE ME!”

 

  
It was clearly in Hermione’s handwriting. Wincing as I reached up behind me, I quickly pressed the button beside my head, and let my arm fall back into place.  
About a minute later, a person who I assumed was a nurse came in.

  
She said her name was Minerva, and then gave me a bottle of “Sarafem”. She started to explain how it would help me in future situations that hopefully wouldn’t arise, implying I wouldn’t be in my current one anymore. Then she told me that I would be moving to the house where Ron lives, with Remus and Sirius Black.  
I looked over to the chair Hermione was sleeping in, only to see her smiling back at me. She must have done this, gotten me out, I mean.

  
“Ron loves Remus and Sirius, and they asked if you needed a new home so the lawyers couldn’t say no, especially after Petunia and Vernon did this to you.” ‘Mione said with a small smile. “New home, ‘Ry!”

  
“And hopefully a new me.” I replied with a sad smile.

  
“No not a new Harry, just the Harry that I see, the one who is the most amazing person in the world.”

  
“Nah ‘Mione, that’s you.” I said, my grin wide.

**Author's Note:**

> i really hope you enjoyed this short fic!! this was originally a short story that i wrote with all original characters. that can be found on my page. anyway thanks for reading and lmk you’re opinions of it and any suggestions and stuff to make it better. thx xo


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